


can’t help but love you

by walkthegale



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Critical Role Femslash Week, F/F, Femslash, Hurt/Comfort, Moonlight, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 07:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17463500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkthegale/pseuds/walkthegale
Summary: "There’s something I have to do," Yasha said before she vanished.





	can’t help but love you

**Author's Note:**

> [Critical Role Femslash Week](https://critrolefemslash.tumblr.com/post/180178925470/critical-role-femslash-week-will-be-held-wednesday), Day 3: Prompt 1, **Moonlight**

The full moon will always reminds Beau of Molly. Sometimes that’s a good thing. Useful. Important. And sometimes it’s just fucking unbearable. She hasn’t yet worked out which tonight will be.

" _There’s something I have to do,_ " Yasha said before she vanished. " _I’ll meet you afterwards._ " And Beau never had a chance to say _no_. To say, _wait, let me go with you_.  
.  
She’s meant to meet up with the others in the morning, and Beau’s _pretty_ confident by now that they won’t leave without her, but that also means she’s pretty sure that what they’ll do instead is worry. Which, like, fuck it, but she doesn’t want Jester to worry about her.

Beau could go on alone. Yasha’s found them before, so she can probably do it again. If she even means to. If _afterwards_ isn’t some code that Beau has misunderstood. If it didn’t really mean _goodbye_.

Beau sits down, finally pausing her pacing for a moment, and leans her back against the tree that marks the crossroads. She’ll give Yasha another hour, she decides. She can wait that much longer before she goes completely out of her damn mind with boredom.

_(Definitely boredom. Definitely not stress or fear or guilt because what if the thing Yasha had to do was a fight and what if she’s dead. What if she’s dead because Beau didn’t go with her, because Beau is sitting here on her ass in the dark thinking about their other dead friend instead.)_

Yeah, sitting still isn’t going to cut it. Beau hops back to her feet and launches into practising a new sequence of kicks that she hasn’t had a chance to put to use yet. She scans the distant hills each time she pauses, the moon bright enough that she can see quite far with the help of her goggles. As the night wears on, she takes them off a couple of times, just to check whether she can actually see dawn beginning to glow on the horizon, but it’s always a false alarm.

She’s taken to hanging upside down from one of the lowest tree branches by her knees, swinging herself back and forth, when she finally catches sight of a figure on the road. She freezes, watches, ready to flee into the foliage above if it turns out to be something she can’t fight on her own, but it only takes a moment for her to be sure.  
.  
Beau somersaults out of the tree, landing on her feet with more of a thud than she’d have liked, and heads towards Yasha. She’s not running. She wasn’t worried and she’s not running. She’s just walking real fast to stretch her legs.

It seems fitting to Beau as she gets nearer that Yasha, outlined in silvery moonlight, is drenched in blood. It mats the fur of her cape and darkens great patches of her tunic. Nearer still, and there are smears on her cheek and down both arms.

Still some thirty feet away, Beau yells, “The _fuck?_ ” and gestures emphatically at Yasha’s gory state.

“It’s not mine,” Yasha has time to tell her, before Beau is right in front of her. “It’s ok, Beau.”

She reaches out, and Beau throws herself forward, and it’s not clear whether Beau leaps into Yasha’s arms or Yasha sweeps Beau off her feet, but Beau locks her legs around Yasha’s waist and holds on for all she’s worth. She buries her face in Yasha’s shoulder, and Yasha smells like dirt and sweat and metal, and the blood on her clothes is dried stiff under Beau’s hands.

When Beau looks up, she’s absolutely not crying, not even a tiny bit.

And Yasha kisses her, hard and urgent, and the only thing Beau can do is kiss her back, there under the full moon. Tonight, the moon is good, Beau decides, breathless. Yasha is here and alive, and the moon is fucking awesome.

She grins against Yasha’s mouth and loses herself in kissing her again.


End file.
